Love Dove
by You'veBeenJayed
Summary: A compilation of random pairings as requested by the winners of my Pairing Poems Contest! Here you go, guys!
1. Kyle's Biggest Fan

**Cartman x Wendy**

**Candy**

**-Marshmallows-**

–

Cartman was a food person. He liked all sorts of food—it didn't matter the taste, the look, not even the origin of which it came. Growing up to having a mother that could cook did wonders for his obsessive food cravings. He knew she only did it to cover up what he heard her doing the night before, but that never really bugged him too much.

But the odd thing was, his favorite foods were the ones you couldn't make in the kitchen.

Cartman liked food that you could buy at the gas station overpriced. The food that came in a bag. Whether it was sugary or salty or in-between, it didn't matter.

When he was younger, he absolutely loved Cheesy Poofs. They came in a bag. They were salty and cheesy and the crunchy sound was so satisfying. It was like the sound a Jewish person's bones made when they were thrown in the fire at Auschwitz. It excited him. They always put a smile on his face.

But lately, his cravings drew more and more away from the cheesy snacks and went more towards something...sugary. Sugary and squishy.

Like marshmallows.

The squishing sound they made when he pulled them out of the _bag_ and chewed on them reminded him of a Nazi squeezing the life out of the organs and hearts of all those pathetic Jews.

This was practically orgasmic.

One day, Cartman was walking around the schoolyards at lunch, popping marshmallows into his mouth and savoring their taste, when someone called out to him.

"Hey, fatass, give me a marshmallow."

Cartman glanced over at the Jewish boy holding his hand out to _his_ bag of sweet treats. He frowned and pulled the bag away, shoving a few in his mouth. "Hell no, Jew! These are my marshmallows!"

Kyle tried to reach around him in hopes of grabbing just one white sugary squishy treat, but failed when Cartman pushed him away.

"C'mon, dude, he doesn't have any lunch. And you _always_ have food," Stan defended his fuming redheaded friend.

Cartman, being the selfish fatass that he was, shook his head. "No! They're mine. The Jew always has money and you never see him giving any of that away. Why doesn't he go buy his own lunch?"

"Don't belittle my people, tubby!" Kyle shot back.

The brunette snorted, shoving another marshmallow into his mouth. "Whatever. Still not giving you any of my marshmallows." With that, he walked away, still eating his current favorite treat.

Wendy, seeing all this from her position next to Stan, stood up. "Let me talk to him," She smiled over at Kyle. "I'll get you some marshmallows, Kyle."

"Uh, that's okay, Wendy, you don't have—"

"No! You deserve some of those marshmallows and Cartman's being a fat bitch. I'll get you some. Just sit tight, okay?" Wendy was scary when she was determined. There was no convincing her once she had her mind set. Kyle nodded and sat in his original seat on the other side of Stan.

It was true that Stan and Wendy had broken up a long time ago, sometime at the end of fifth grade, and they were now in seventh, in Middle School. But over the years, she lost most of her bitchiness and stopped dating so many guys and dumping them within weeks. Now, she mostly hung around either Bebe or with the boys—it didn't matter if she and Stan weren't going out anymore, they didn't mind.

Wendy easily caught up with Cartman and put a hand on his shoulder, gripping his tightly. "Cartman, why don't we take a little walk?"

Cartman blinked, glaring at her. "What the hell do you what?" He tried shrugging off her hand to no avail.

"Just come with me," She smiled sweetly at him, leading him to a deserted hallway. When she was sure nobody was around, she crossed her arms across her chest and got in that 'you're screwed' pose, her violet eyes trained on him. "So what do I have to do to get some of those marshmallows?"

Cartman glared at her, eating a few more. "Nothing. They're mine,"

Wendy matched his glare. She was about to say something, when she got a brilliant idea, as was her way. She leaned back and smiled. "Toss one to me."

The fat boy looked at her like she was nuts. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Toss a marshmallow at me," She pointed her her face. "If I can catch one in my mouth, then I get the whole bag."

"What!? No way!"

"Fine. If I can catch _three_ in my mouth, I get the whole bag,"

Cartman eyed her slowly. She had to be bluffing... Right? Right. She was totally bluffing. There was no way she could do something so...well, amazing, in Cartman's point-of-view. He huffed. "Fine. Three. No re-dos. Now open your mouth,"

Wendy gave him one last smirk before awaiting the marshmallows.

Cartman tossed one at her, standing across the hallway. She caught it perfectly in her mouth, chewed, then swallowed it. He frowned. "...Lucky shot," he grumbled, pulling out another. This time he tried catching her off-guard and threw it to her left.

Wendy was expecting this and easily moved her head to her left, catching the marshmallow just as easily as the last. Cartman gawked, getting out the final marshmallow a little more nervously this time.

He back up a little more this time before throwing it. Then he tossed it way over her head. Wendy saw this coming too. She merely took a few quick back-steps until she hit the wall, watched the marshmallow carefully bounce off the wall over her head, then she turned and leaned forward, catching the treat on her tongue and slipping it into her mouth successfully.

She then turned back to Cartman, who was standing there in disbelief. She strolled cockily over to him. "Now give me the marshmallows," she told him calmly.

Cartman grumbled a little, looking away in defeat while handing out the bag to the female. She grabbed it and looked at him. "Oh, please, get over it, Cartman,"

"Yeah, but they're _my_ marshmallows. Now I don't have any for the rest of the day," he pouted childishly.

Wendy rolled her eyes, popping a marshmallow in her mouth. She took Cartman's chin and captured his lips with hers. Taking control of Cartman's shock, she stuck her tongue into his mouth and moved it around his a few times before pulling back.

Cartman, looking a lot calmer than he felt, licked his lips. "You taste like marshmallows."

Wendy nodded, eating one more. "Mhm."

Cartman grabbed her shoulders and kissed her again. This one lasted longer. When they pulled away for air, he smiled brightly at her. "_My _marshmallows."

–

**This is where all the one shots are going for the winners of my previous contest: Pairing Poem Contest. Enjoy! Sorry, 'Kyle's Biggest Fan'! I tried making it a Candy, but I didn't make it his POV, Dx. **


	2. Madcow5678

**Kenny x Wendy**

**Kendy**

**-Winners-**

–

The chill in the air.

The momentary stop in snowfall.

Just the right temperature.

People wearing lighter jackets—quicker movements.

Stores selling out of that one product.

Oh, yeah, it was definitely that time of year. For what, you ask? Well, if you asked Kenny, he would tell you it was time for only the greatest races that South Park could possibly hold!

Every year, right around this perfect time of the year, most of the kids in South Park High held their annual racing contests. Everyone would go out and buy a new sled just for the occasion. People would wear less clothing to get prepared for more speed along that nice little mountain-side they always used. There was no practicing for this. You just grabbed your sled, patted each other on the back, then had someone push you down the mountain as you prayed for your survival.

It was the best.

"Alright! Place your bets! Place your bets here!" Stan, Craig, Clyde, and Kyle sat at their table placed in the center of the school, a giant chalkboard set behind them, with notepads and change jars on the table in front of them. Since they never participated in the competition, they always placed the bets. People swarmed them, waving their money in the air to place the bets who they thought would win.

Who got the most bets, you ask?

Well, the competing few were Tolken, Tweek, Damien, Kenny, Cartman, and Wendy.

But the main bets, the one with some major cash flow in their tin jars? Wendy Testaburger and Kenny McCormick.

Those two were the best. It was one or the other every year. Kenny, with the advantage of having no fear of death or even serious injuries; Wendy, with the advantage of having the need to win every single time for every single thing.

The event was being held the next day, Saturday, so after school Kenny met up with Wendy on the ways to their separate buses. He smiled at her and held out his hand.

"Hey, Wendy. Good luck tomorrow," His smile grew wider. "You're gonna need it, y'know,"

Wendy frowned, sticking her head up like a prude, and walked away like a stick was stuck up her butt. Kenny laughed to himself, knowing how she was, and walked off to his own bus to get home, eat a nice...well, eat dinner, then get a good night rest for the best competition the next day. This is what he looked forward to all year.

Except for Kenny, he should have realized that even during this wonderful time of year, his life was anything but.

It started around ten o' clock at night. His dad got home from a late day's work and a late night's bar-run. His mom, having had to deal with everyone all day, snapped. This caused an all-too-common fight between the two, which ended up in make-up sex around...oh, three in the morning and lasting until five. Yeah, that long.

By the time Kenny finally got to sleep, the sun was rising. When he woke up, he was groggy. Checking his cracked alarm clock, he snapped awake quickly, realizing he had ten minutes to get dressed and run to the mountainside for the competition.

He got there hardly a minute before everyone began lining up in their positions for the race. He spotted Wendy and decided to set up beside her, slamming his hole-filled sled onto the ground next to her oh-so-perfect purple and gray one.

She glanced over at him and he almost thought he caught something in her look, but maybe it was the delusions from no sleep.

"You look like crap, Kenny," she noted with that pleasant tone of voice of hers.

"I feel like it too," Kenny nodded with a yawn while raking his hands through his unbrushed, messy blonde hair.

"You are crap, Kenneh." They heard Cartman's voice from somewhere on the other side of Tweek and Damien, but decided to ignore him. Kenny took a deep breath and sat carefully on his sled, staring tiredly down the hill. Wendy frowned at him while sitting on her sled in her own favored position.

Kenny noticed this finally and opened his mouth to say something, when a familiar voice rang out. "GO!"

Everyone either pushed themselves, or got someone to do so, off the edge where they cascaded down the steep side of the mountain. Cartman got stuck at the top, so he was automatically out right then and there. Everyone could hear him cursing and laughed to themselves about his fatness sinking his sled into the snow.

_One down, four to go,_ both Kenny and Wendy thought, smirking to themselves and they sledded past trees and rocks and other obstacles. You see, they liked to win. And when you like to win, you tend to do all you can to do so. Even if it means playing a little dirty now and again.

Tolken was nearing behind Kenny. He saw this and looked up. Seeing the perfect opportunity, he moved widely to his right to give the other plenty of room. Tolken, seeing this 'perfect chance', took it, and leaned forward to speed gratefully past the blonde.

Kenny made sure to keep up his speed and once he got by his spot, he leaned in closer to Tolken, making him lean over more whether he realized it or not. Finally, Tolken looked over to see Kenny so close to him—bad move.

Kenny smiled and waved at him. Tolken gave him a weird look...just before he slammed into a leave-less sticker bush. Ooh, that had to hurt!

_Two down, three to go._

Meanwhile, Wendy was working her own opponent: Damien.

Damien, having the advantage of being able to melt the snow to ice with his devilish fire abilities, was gaining great speed and was far ahead of the black-haired female. Not seeing Wendy or any others around him, he figured he was ahead enough of the game to start slacking off. Another bad move.

Damien released his grip from the front of his sled and leaned back, gripping behind him instead in one quick movement. This slowed him down a lot, but he didn't mind. He kept his knees up and smiled lazily to himself as he strolled slowly down the mountainside.

Wendy smiled widely at this new advantage.

She sped up to lessen the distance between them. When she was close enough, she riskily reached out with one of her hands and grabbed the back of Damien's black jacket. Before he knew what was happening, he was blinded by his hood and Wendy was speeding by him. He took his hands off his sled to take off his hood just in time to see the culprit winning and the tree he then slammed into painfully.

_Three down, two to go._

Kenny and Wendy spotted Tweek at the same time, both going in for him. He was always a bit harder because it seemed like no matter what they tried, he either twitched out of their reach or spazzed out of the way of whatever obstacle was in his path. He was too quick.

Finally, they got fed up with it and both made a grab for his arms to yank him off.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Tweek spazzed, his arms being pulled.

This was the first time Wendy and Kenny actually noticed each other. Wendy glared at the sleepy grin Kenny gave her from the other side of Tweek. "Hey, Wendy, come here often?" he asked.

Wendy huffed and pushed Tweek at him. He moved out of the way enough for Tweek to fall face-first in the snow instead of on top of him. Now Wendy was in first. He couldn't allow her to win!

Kenny sped towards her until they were side-by-side, both keeping pace until the finish line was in sight. They both glanced at each other, a determined look in their eyes, sparks practically flying off their sleds.

Wendy saw her chance. When Kenny yawned, his eyes closed, and when his eyes closed, he didn't see that one little tiny pothole in front of him. She beamed and slowed down a little to watch the event happen.

Kenny, done yawning, looked at her in curiosity. Yawning had slowed him down, so why was Wendy still keeping up with him? He looked in front of him and his face paled in realization.

His sled caught the hole and the back flipped up, literately knocking Kenny off of it. Kenny, reaching out, grabbed onto the unsuspecting Wendy's sleeve as they both went tumbling forward. Going, and going, and going...they formed a snowball. The orange and purple snowball rolled way past the crowd, right through the finish line, and into a tree where it finally dispersed and they fell to the ground with a slam.

Wendy sat up first, hand to her head. She glanced at the unmoving Kenny next to her. "Kenny? You okay?" She shook his shoulder roughly. "Kenny??"

Kenny, eyes still closed, latched onto her arm and smiled, snoring quite loudly. She giggled, kissing him on the forward and patting his head, as the judges came over to check their conditions and congratulate them for finishing the race.

"It's a tie! You both won!" they all said.

Wendy frowned for a moment, but it was short-lasted as she smiled down at the sleeping Kenny, snuggling onto her arm still.

_I guess I'm okay with that...this time, _she thought to herself. _But next year, I'm winning all by myself._

–

**I've never done this pairing before—but it was fun! Here's another oneshot for another winner of my contest. Hope you like it!**


	3. RisaShootingStar

**Damien x Pip**

**Dip**

**-Grave Dreaming-**

–

Damien walked through the graveyard, collar of his black shirt upturned from the cold weather, head down. He bumped into someone, but both ignored each other and continued on their not-so-merry ways.

The sun was just setting and a chill layered over the graveyard in an unsettling way. Damien ignored this and the emptiness that enveloped the graveyard, stopping at his destination and staring down at it. He got down on his knees to blankly face the gravestone without saying a word.

Instead of reaching out to touch the stone or even placing gifts next to it, as is tradition, he sighed and laid down next to the pile of Earth, rolling onto his back. His black hair blew gently in the breeze while he placed his hands atop his chest and closed his eyes.

Taking one last peek at the gravestone, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on top of his chest with his folded hands. Gently stroking it, he began to think.

–

_It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. People bullied him, taunted him—and the worst thing about all of it was that he had the power to do something about them, but didn't have the permission. His stupid father wouldn't allow him to, say, blow their heads off or set them on fire. Not anymore, anyway._

_He didn't know how he could deal with it. He wasn't even allowed back home, having to stay in this stupid place. It's pretty bad when you'd rather go back to Hell than live on Earth in South Park._

_Then that's when he showed up. The little English kid. Pip Pirrup was his name and the only kid in the entire town that bothered hanging out with him._

_That was in 4th grade._

_Their friendship started out slow at first, as tensed acquaintances. Tense mainly because Damien glared daggers at Pip whenever he so much as said an enthusiastic "Hello Damien!" His smiles were ignored—Damien never saw the reason to do such a thing—and hugs were absolutely forbidden. Pip had indeed tried that once, but soon learned his lesson when he was thrown across the yard._

_Sometime in 7th grade, Damien was emitted back to hell and, for some reason, he felt a little sad to go. Every day he was down there, in the sanctuary of his pain and torment-filled home, he thought about Pip. It was weird for him._

_Pip never talked to anyone after Damien left—who was there to talk to? Everyone hated him for his 'jolly disposition' anyway._

_When Damien came back the second year of High School, he couldn't of been more ecstatic. The demon child avoided him, to his dismay. The truth was, Damien wanted to get whatever 'good' thoughts that kept coming to his mind whenever he was around the blonde._

_One day, as High School students tend to do when they get bored, a couple of them—Damien figured it was that Craig kid and his groupies Tolken and Clyde—began to pick on Pip. Damien ignored this at first, until the time he caught them full-out bullying him. "Stay away from my Pip!" he had yelled just before beating the shit out of them. Pip practically had stars in his eyes when Damien lifted him up and hugged him around the waste._

_That was where everything started._

_After High School, they stayed together through college and even got their own house afterwards. Occasionally, Damien was called back to Hell for some bigger business, but always returned as quickly as possible just to see _his_ Pip again._

_There was one time that they were walking through the park. It was Valentines Day and Damien was actually going to propose to Pip. All they had to do was cross the street and they'd be at his 'perfect spot', where they had their first kiss._

_That's where everything went downhill._

_Damien should've known that being the son of the Devil meant that nothing good could ever stay in his life._

_He looked away for just a second. He spotted something out of the corner of his eye. But by this time, he was across the street with nothing to worry about. Looking away from the street, he never noticed Philip stopping to pick up his fallen hat. Right smack in the middle of the street with a young, speed demon in a corvette ignoring the traffic light for the hot girl in the passenger seat._

_Damien saw it happen just in time to realize there was nothing he could've done to stop it._

_Pip flew and his body dropped like a bag full of sand._

_A hit-and-run. The couple in the corvette sped away after that. Damien ran to the middle of the street, ignoring the people already on their cellphones to report the accident, clinging to Pip for dear life. He looked down at Pip's already lifeless eyes and brushed away some blonde locks of hair from them._

_You would think he would be able to see Pip anytime he wanted._

_You would think he could be happy, regardless of Pip's death, so long as they were both in Hell._

_But, if you considered it, you would also think that Pip was too good for Hell and would go straight to Heaven._

_Which was exactly where he went._

_There was nothing Damien could do about it. He would never see Pip no matter where he went._

_The torture didn't stop there either. Damien, regardless of being the son of the devil, worked his ass off to be the best he could be. He did everything to meet the standards of Heaven. He did so much good, it literately burned his naturally evil soul._

_Then his father decided he was done with the Devil business and passed his job onto his son. Damien should've been happy for this position, right? Ruler of Hell and all that jazz. Well, that was the exact opposite of how he felt._

_Being the new Devil meant that he was granted with immortality. He could never die no matter what he did._

_Damien would never see Pip again._

–

Damien wiped at his eyes, not even realizing he had been crying until now. The tears burned his skin—devils weren't supposed to cry out of sorrow or love. He sighed to himself next to the gravestone. He felt the crisp, cool air around him and wondered how long he had been here. He would stay forever if he could, just to be near the body of his once lover, the one he never proposed to.

"Uh, excuse Damien old boy, but I do believe that's my hat you have there."

Damien's eyes shot open to meet the cool blue ones of his dead friend and lover, Pip Pirrup. He was speechless, seeing the glowing face, ever-smiling. Damien sat straight up and squinted at him.

"Your...hat?" Pip nodded.

"Yes, of course if you don't mind," He smiled at Damien. "I suppose you could keep it if you wanted. Would you like that, Damien?"

Damien blinked, before smiling softly. "I would, Pip," he responded.

"Alright then, it's yours!"

Damien tried to reach out for Pip. His hand phased right through the boy just before the blonde disappeared in a cloud of dust into the night, blown away by the wind. Damien was awe-struck. He looked down at the hat of his old lover and stroked it again, before clutching it tightly to his chest as if it were being worn by the real person.

Then Damien cried the tears that burned his face.

Cried for the lover he never proposed to. And for his only friend that he would never see again.

–

**Dx Wow, this sucked. SO sorry! I've never written a Dip before and for some reason I couldn't think of anything dramatic or tear-wrenching enough! Sorry 'RisaShootingStar', I tried! Dx**


	4. OffiKennyMcCormick

**Butters x Kenny**

**Bunny**

**-Apples-**

–

"_Lululu, I've got some apples; lululu, you've got some too."_

Kenny glanced up from his state of, well, sleeping in class to search for the source of the humming keeping him awake. His mostly covered eyes finally landed on a short-cut blonde and softened.

Of course it was Butters.

The smaller boy was doodling something on his notebook. Kenny watched him pause and grab a peach colored pencil from his backpack. He put it on his desk but it rolled off and towards Kenny's feet.

Kenny's hood was over his head, covering his eyes so he could sleep better, but he was able to see straight down quite well. With his head leaning down he could see the pencil at his feet.

There was an expected tap on his shoulder and he moved his hood back some, flashing Butters a cheesy smile. "Yesss?" he asked.

Butters pointed by Kenny's feet from his desk. "Uh, sorry to bother you Kenny, but I, uh, dropped my colored pencil," He gave Kenny a look that made the taller blonde want to do his every bidding. "Could you, um, get it for me, please?"

Kenny picked up the pencil and handed it to Butters without saying anything, amused when he lit up at the simple act of kindness. "Thanks, Kenny!"

He nodded at him, sitting up more in his seat to see what Butters was doing. "Uh, Butters, aren't apples supposed to be red, green, or yellow? What's with the peach?" He was generally curious. Honestly.

Butters chuckled and held up his notebook drawing to Kenny's face. "Well, that's because it's not an apple. It's a little bunny rabbit," He pointed to certain parts on the picture. "See it's big ears and cute little cotton tail?" Sometimes he was too cute for his own good.

Kenny smiled. "That's pretty good, Butters," A pause. "Then what was with the song?"

The other blinked, putting his drawing back onto his desk. "What song?"

"The one about apples."

Butters shrugged. "I don't remember any songs about any apples, Kenny,"

Kenny was about to say something, but decided against it and sank down into his seat. He was letting himself drift off again when familiar words soundded from the boy next to him. He just shrugged it off this time.

"_Lululu, I've got some apples; luluu, you've got some too."_

–

That song was stuck in his head.

Kenny couldn't get the few words out of his head. Even worse, every time the song rang through his head he thought of Butters. Finally, when the last school bell rang, Kenny stood and grabbed Butters' arm before he got on the bus. There would be only one way to solve this.

Butters turned and smiled at him. "Oh, hey, Kenny. What did you want?"

"You're coming over to my house tonight," he stated. It wasn't a question. He walked away as soon as he saw Butters nod an 'okay.'

–

Kenny was just setting up the final preparations in his kitchen when there was a knock at his door. He opened it and dragged Butters inside and to the kitchen before he could say anything. Once situated in the kitchen, he made sure Butters faced him and not the objects on the counter.

"What are you doing, Kenny?" he asked, trying to peek behind him.

Kenny pulled his face back to him. "No peeking," He leaned his face towards Butters'. "You got me craving for something, so to satisfy it, we're going to play a game." He handed him a blue cloth. "Now put this blindfold on."

When Butters was done, Kenny smirked and led him to the counter. Now try this, this, and this." Butters took a wary bite out of every sample Kenny gave to him. He trusted him a lot more than he trusted Cartman about this stuff.

"Boy, all that fruit sure was tasty. But I still don't get the point,"

"That's because we're not done yet."

Kenny sat back, leaning against the counter. He took a fruit of his choice off the counter and took a crunchy bite out of his while staring at Butters lamely. "Butters, do you like apples?" he asked, watching his blindfolded friend's face.

Butters frowned a little, making Kenny's heart thump at the cute look. "I don't think so. My parents said they're too hard for my teeth to bite into and i-if my teeth got hurt and I got a tooth ache, then my parents would ground me,"

The taller blonde rolled his eyes. He was never really fond of Butters' parents. "Then why do you sing that song about apples all the time?"

"What song?"

_Is he serious? _Kenny wondered. "'I've got some apples, lalala, you've got apples too, lalala. Or something like that. Don't you remember? You sang it in class today when you were coloring that bunny,"

Butters lifted his head up some. "Oh, well, you see Kenny. Uh, sometimes when I'm real concentrated on somethin' I tend to sing without knowing what I'm doing. If I bothered you then I'm real sorry about that,"

Kenny shook his head, but then remembered he couldn't see. "No, it didn't bother me at all." He took another bite out of the fruit he was munching on thoughtfully. "So you've never had an apple before and you can eat them because they're too hard for your teeth? Never had applesauce either?"

"Nope."

"Alright, then I'm going to give you one more test. Tell me what this fruit is," Kenny walked forward and cupped Butters' chin in his hand. Before Butters could say anything, Kenny pressed his lips against his, sliding his tongue gently across his lips. He pulled away after that and took another casual bite out of the apple he was eating, one hand on his hips.

Butters licked his lips, cocking his head, not even seemingly caught off-guard. "Uh, apples?"

"Bingo! You win the prize!" Kenny smirked.

"Oh, wow! Uh, what do I win?"

Kenny's smirk grew as he leaned down and kissed Butters again. "Me."

"Oh boy." Butters smiled. "Kenny? Can I take off the blindfold now?"

Kenny grabbed his hand and led him to his room, blue eyes sparking. "Nah, keep it on, apple-boy. I like it."

–

**I'm really making these horrible. Dx Sorry! The ending sucks and kind of drew away from the main topic a little! I've never written a Bunny before either. I hope it wasn't too horribly bad. Sorry for the lateness, too, I've been real busy!**


End file.
